Child of Sin
by memoriesofirikah
Summary: Part 1: Seymour becomes aware of his situation at the early age of three. This is a series- I will not be adding chapters. Each work is part of a 5-10 series of the rise and fall of Seymour Guado. I will be exploring childhood trauma and it's affect on mental illness.


"Don't speak that way, you're scaring him," she quipped, tugging the child tightly against her robes. Young Seymour nervously clutched his mother's velvet garments, a momentary comfort from a house of tension and turmoil. Her scent was subtle hints of the lilac flowers she gathered along the Moonflow, with a tinge of salt and sediment that saturated the hem of her dress.

"My dear wife..." Jyscal's expression was pained, casting a solemn glance towards his son.

"Finding resolution between my people," he began, "your people... that is difficult enough."

Seymour gripped tighter, fabric bunching beneath tiny hands, peeking a violet gaze from behind the protection of his mother. Jyscal's unbound azure tendrils mimicked Seymour's, as well as the veins protruding prominently upon exposed limbs. An observational distraction as he tried to grasp the dispute. Even at the age of three, the hybrid boy was keen to the energy in the commune, a constant buzzing of disapproval and prejudice.

"But you lead your people now, they will listen," Animalia retorted with a deflated exhale.

She continued, "Yevon be willed... Yevon will bind human and Guado relations, I just know it Jyscal. With time, Seymour will be accepted- he will be revered..."

The mother's words faded into self-doubt. She had been around the Guado long enough; the people deeply rooted to traditions and painfully slow to change. She wondered why she lied to herself.

"They conspire against the boy," the high Guado stated. "Our people are a proud race. We keep our bloodlines pure and culture preserved. It's been this way for centuries and is the only way as the protectors of the Farplane. We thought we could bring humans and Guado together, and we've failed. We must keep Seymour out of the public eye, or the circumstances could be dire."

The words stung, furry building within her. Why did they wed if his true loyalties were with the Guado? He had been a devoted and supportive husband until he accepted the role as their newly appointed leader. Now he treated Seymour as a nuisance and a liability, rather than a son.

"What do you suggest, Jyscal? You promised we'd stay together, as a family." Her brows furrowed deeply, pain etched throughout her expression.

What option did they have, to leave?

Jyscal's silence was answer enough.

The mother's face paled, her throat felt like it had been crushed with a vice. Rage burned within her, and it took a will as strong as Mount Gagazet not to unleash a fire spell strong enough to engulf the entire room. Seymour felt the heat, and recoiled. Negotiations with her obstinate husband were futile, and in that moment she questioned her love for him. Spineless, weak man. A seed of poison had been planted, resentful of their decision to bare a child.

"You've ousted us."

"I've done no such thing," he retorted. "You and Seymour have a home, food, a nanny, endless resources and access to a scholarly education..."

And for how long would mother and son find refuge here? A temporary fix, at best. Tears pricked the corners of Animalia's eyes and her hand curled tighter into Seymour's garments as a small gesture of reassurance. Seymour was struggling to understand.

"What, as a prisoner? Locked inside of the manor? Guadosalam is not our home. Your loyalties lie with your people, not your family."

The young half-breed took in the uncertainty as a quiet observer. He leaned closer to his mother for protection, noting the distance and body language of his father. His name was being spoke disapprovingly through harsh tones and displeased sentences, and it caused a shift within him. Seymour was afraid. What was he? What had he done wrong? The feeling started deep in his chest, heart quickening and the boy felt hot in the face. He wished to cry, but there was no safety in that.

Run. Run away. Save yourself from their misery.

The words frightened him and Seymour tore himself out of his mother's grasp. Deft in movements even at three, Seymour darted across the room, bounding over the rooted floor and hid like a scared animal opposite side of the bed.

Lord Jyscal and Animalia casted each other a severe look and decided to cut their conversation short. No use in arguing; no solution would be had, not today anyway.

Neither parent reached out to comfort Seymour. So entrapped in their own turmoil and emotions, they engaged in a deathly stare down.

"We'll speak no more of this today," Jyscal stated firmly.

She scoffed, seething as the newly appointed leader of the Guado departed. Jyscal left them both in the verdant room, swishing of ornate robes fading into silence.

A human and a Guado bonded through matrimony? That had caused enough gossip and strife amongst the woodland race. But Seymour, the first half-breed between humans and guado was pure sacrilege. Animalia could no longer shield her son's presence from the judgemental and obtrusive eyes of the Guado. She had been overly optimistic that Jyscal's rise to leadership would encourage acceptance. But the opposite had happened; a bright and curious boy of only three was now labeled an abomination.

She stood in the middle of the room, absorbing the severity of their situation. Slowly, Animalia approached the frightened child and sat on the edge of the bed closest to Seymour. She proffered a gentle smile, one she hoped to ease the harsh words exchanged between lovers.

"My sweet Seymour. Everything will be okay."

Slowly, he unfurled from the side of the bed and tentatively leaned into her. Animalia wrapped an arm around him, the other hand softly stroking through thick, wildly unkempt blue hair. The didn't speak. Seymour's gangly digit traced invisible patterns on her robes. Her knees began to sway softly to rock him, humming the Hymn of the Fayth. The melody soothed the small boy, a tune already etched into Seymour's mind, and he drifted into sleep.


End file.
